


Healing Hands

by merelyafigment, visionofblue (merelyafigment)



Series: Caregivers [2]
Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Community: hardtime100, F/M, Pre-Relationship, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29918388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelyafigment/pseuds/merelyafigment, https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelyafigment/pseuds/visionofblue
Summary: Gloria's had a rough day, and tries to suck it up. (And stop noticing how Miguel Alvarez would be happy to help her.)
Relationships: Miguel Alvarez & Gloria Nathan, Miguel Alvarez/Gloria Nathan
Series: Caregivers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194935





	Healing Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hardtime100 community (on LJ & DW) Challenge 132: Women Of Oz for International Women's Day.

She was a doctor. 

She was an adult woman. (In a dangerous workplace.) 

She had survived med school! (She had been younger then.) 

Gloria could absolutely _not_ let out a bone-tired groan and collapse face first onto the stack of paperwork on her desk. 

No matter how long or hard her day was, and how she still had to _do something_ with that paperwork that didn't involve turning it into a pillow. 

It would be quite an uncomfortable pillow. (Damn it, that stack looked almost fluffy to her right now.) 

She couldn't. 

She could awkwardly rub the back of her neck. (Which just made her shoulder ache more, comparing not at all to having someone do it for her. But she was Separated from her old neck-rub giver.) 

She could sigh wearily. And grimace. That was fine. 

"You--" 

The voice brought her eyes up immediately, finding Alvarez leaning into her currently open caged office to point at her. 

"--look like you need coffee. I'd get you some, but we're not allowed in the staff lounge." Crooked grin playing on his lips. "Bet you're regretting that rule now, huh?" 

"I didn't make it, but yes." Her answering smirk was tired, but-- 

No longer pointing, his hand found rest on his abdomen, idle fingers rubbing in small circles. It wasn't-- she was used to come-ons. This was subconscious, Miguel not even appearing to register his action, leaning against the cage. 

She'd never noticed-- he had nice hands, his touch lightly dancing across his scrubs, fingers slender-- 

She was a doctor. 

In a prison. 

He was an (always offering to help her) inmate. 

(Her neck ached.) 

She needed to go home. 

She needed to sleep. 

(Alone.)

***  
End


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